


Because they don't have a problem with steaks...

by PumpkinDoodles



Series: Hey, Pumpkin! Halloween Fics [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, This STRIKE team has a special skill set, TripleAgent!Rumlow, Werewolves, and they will steal your ball, supernatural fic - Freeform, they're married so married, they're very outdoorsy, woof-woof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:09:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29554719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinDoodles/pseuds/PumpkinDoodles
Summary: When Natasha Romanoff told him they were meeting a special tactical STRIKE team, Jimmy Woo did not expect...so many teeth. Teeth and tails. But they seem like very nice people, for werewolves.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow
Series: Hey, Pumpkin! Halloween Fics [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1907872
Comments: 24
Kudos: 269





	Because they don't have a problem with steaks...

**Author's Note:**

> *I own nothing!

“What am I looking for?” the new FBI liaison agent said, lowering his binoculars. His name was Woo. He was standing at Natasha Romanoff’s shoulder as she peered into binoculars at the edge of a quinjet ramp. In front of them, the landscape was snowy and frigid. It had started to snow lightly, sometime after midnight.

“The arrival of our special tactical team,” Natasha said. “They’re very good in remote locations and below average temperatures.”

“Uh-huh,” Agent Woo said politely. “Makes sense. We’re in Siberia, special tactical team is necessary.” He nodded his head. Natasha liked that he didn’t mansplain things to her. And he’d brought her coffee without her having to ask. That was a delightful bonus. In the darkness, a sudden howl cut through the air.

“Ah,” Natasha said.

“What was that?” Woo said.

“Our team, Agent Woo,” she told him.

“Okay,” Woo said, raising his binoculars to his eyes again. The howling noises grew louder and closer, echoing and responding to each other. “What is goi--are those wolves?” he asked. He’d automatically taken a step back when there was movement at the edge of the clearing. A large, brownish wolf--far larger than a dog--had emerged from the shadows. It was trailed by other wolves.

“Yes,” Natasha said. “This is the tactical team.”

“SHIELD trained wolves?” he asked, clearly gobsmacked.

“Not exactly,” she said. “When HYDRA infiltrated, they were willing to do a...range of experimental serums to mimic Captain Rogers’ transformation. Apparently, they used DNA sourced from wildlife. Some of our loyal agents got a serum with some interesting side effects.”

“Those are werewolves?” Woo said.

“I wouldn’t say that to them,” Natasha said. “It hurts their feelings.”

“Okay,” Woo said in his gentle voice. “There are so many of them.” He sounded surprised. At least a dozen moved towards the quinjet. They’d gone eerily quiet when the last wolf--dark and rangy-looking, Woo thought--emerged from the treeline, glancing backwards. It gave one staccato yelp and the other wolves increased their pace.

“HYDRA didn’t care about who died, just who lived,” Natasha said. “Grab those blankets,” she directed. Woo stepped to the side of the quinjet as the wolves moved in, single-file. As they stepped into the quinjet, she tossed a blanket over each animal and each one dropped a fabric bag from between its teeth. The final wolf stepped in, shook the snow off his shoulders, and Natasha threw a blanket over the animal’s torso. Up close, you could see the grey flecks around his muzzle and amber-colored eyes. The ramp clattered shut and the quinjet rose in the sky. Natasha gathered the bags.

“All good. We’re out of range,” she said, directing the remark at the last wolf. He barked, then took a halting, jerky step forward and his bones began to shift under his skin, rising to the height of a human being. A nude, tanned human being with dark hair and sharp cheekbones.

“Oh my God,” Woo said, stunned, as the man cleared his throat, a rough, barking sound, and adjusted the blanket. That was when Woo realized the other wolves were a moment behind him, fur vanishing, height increasing, as they stood under their blankets. Woo stared, until the tallest man in the group gave him an oddly feral smile.

“Hullo, mate,” he said in a cheerful tone. He had an Australian accent.

“Hi,” Woo said, raising his hand to wave and then feeling self-conscious.

“Everybody good?” the last wolf--er, man--called out, very near to Woo. His human voice was raspy and low. There was a choruses of yeses. He looked at Woo and offered his hand. “Sorry,” he said, as they shook. “Always hoarse after a mission. All that howling.” Then he smirked slowly. 

“This is Commander Rumlow,” Natasha said. “He’s pulling your leg, Agent Woo.”

“We can’t have a little fun?” Rumlow said.

“Do you leave naked?” Woo said, the words slipping out without him meaning to. The men laughed.

“No,” Rumlow said, grimacing. “It’s fucking awkward, having to always carry backup pants. If you don’t mind, I’m gonna find those.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Woo said, realizing everyone was getting dressed.

“They’re with your phone,” Natasha supplied. “Darcy texted you, she said to bring home food from Mancuso’s, you’d know what.”

“Of course she wants Mancuso’s,” he said, shaking his head. His voice was wry. “Only my wife,” he said.

“You don’t like Mancuso’s?” Woo said, not understanding.

“Oh, I do,” he said, clearly amused. It was odd, Woo thought. He let his gaze drift around the quinjet. The Australian made eye contact with him.

“You’re not going to ask us a lot of questions, mate?” he said.

“Oh,” Woo said. “I guess I could? Like, uh---?”

“Most people wanna know if we’re gonna eat ‘em,” another agent said. Natasha grinned fractionally.

“Do you?” Woo said, feeling like he didn’t know the polite response.

“Nah,” Rumlow said. “I never liked steak tartare before the serum, though.”

“I notice you’ve got a little grey that you don’t have in this form,” Natasha said. Rumlow looked momentarily nonplussed. The other men hooted.

“You’re dying your hair now?” the Australian said to Rumlow.

“My wife is young,” Rumlow said defensively. “I’m trying to look good here.” That began a back-and-forth conversation of insults.

The flight back to DC was full of jokes about how Agent Rollins smelled like wet dog, Agent Hernandez liked to chase parked cars, and Agent Callahan had a favorite ball. “It’s a stress ball,” Callahan said. “My mama gave it to me.”

“I’ve got a pineapple one,” Woo told him. 

“Pineapple?” Callahan asked, looking genuinely interested.

“It’s from a TV show. It squeaks a little,” Woo said.

“Don’t let him steal yours,” the Australian said, clearly ragging Callahan. Woo had learned his name was Rollins.

“It was one piece of cake!” Callahan said. “And I thought it was for everybody, I didn’t realize Darcy had made cake for your birthday,” he told Rollins.

“It said _Happy Birthday Jack,”_ Rollins said, rolling his eyes.

“It’s not like I can read, when I’m the other way,” Callahan said. “Words are all blurry in those colors.”

“You know, I read that dogs can’t see color,” Woo said.

“That’s true,” Callahan said, seeming to seize on his words.

“Hey, I’ve got a joke,” Woo said. “Why are werewolves better than vampires?” Everyone looked at him. “Because they don’t have a problem with steaks,” he said. They all seemed to find it really funny. Rumlow cycled through a series of awkward expressions as the men around him laughed. He looked like he didn’t want to laugh, even though he found it funny. It _was_ a corny joke, Woo thought.

  
  


* * *

Arriving at their condo, Brock unlocked the door, uncertain if she was awake or not. “Honey, I’m home!” he called jokingly, carrying the takeout containers in a white and red bag. “And I swung by the pharmacy, too.” She didn’t reply. The apartment was very quiet. He set the bags on the kitchen counter, then walked towards their bedroom. She was a heavy sleeper. He pushed the door open and turned the dimmer switch on the bedroom lights. Darcy liked a dark bedroom. She said it helped her sleep. And it was romantic. It was why she’d chosen the eggplant color scheme of this room: purple wallpaper with a low sheen, the heavy drapes over the windows that didn’t let in light, the iron canopy bed in the center of the room, and the long, low chest at the foot of the bed. He’d made it for her. Sourced the carved wood from Thailand, so it would be pretty. Darcy liked pretty things. He walked over to the bed, bent, and rapped gently on the surface. _Tap-tap-tap._ “Honey,” he crooned. 

“Ughhhh,” she said from inside the box. He heard a yawn and a huff. “It’s too early!” Her voice was muffled.

“I can put your food in the fridge,” he said. She needed time to wake up usually. The only answer was the creak of the lid as she pushed it open.

“I wanna see you, though,” she said, doing grabby hands at him. Her dark hair was pooled against the silken lining of the coffin-substitute. “I missed you,” she said, smiling. He tilted his head.

“New pajamas?” he said. 

“Mmm-hmm,” she said, sitting up. “I was feeling art deco meets Hugh Hefner and they’re very comfortable.” He picked her up and kissed her lightly. He felt the slight prick of her teeth against his lips.

“Naughty,” he said, feeling a thrill. He’d been wildly attracted to her ever since they met, in SHIELD’s experimental medicine ward. He’d been there for a serum checkup when they brought her in, feverish from some sort of bite following an astrophysics field mission that had gone awry. Even burning up and mid-transformation, she cracked jokes. He’d found an excuse to visit her and then helped Foster wrangle Darcy’s freedom via telephone. He’d been surprised and delighted when she slung a messenger bag over her shoulder in the hospital room, looked at him, and asked if he knew where a girl could get some blood around DC. Now she was looking at him affectionately, pointed teeth slightly visible.

“Mmm-hmm,” she said, tilting her head. “Pretty much always and you love it.”

“Yeah,” he said warmly. They were kissing when her stomach growled. “Hungry?” he asked.

“Starving. Did you get my Mancuso’s?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said, unable to hide his mirth.

“Don’t say it!” Darcy said, dropping her arms so she could hold his hand and pull him out into the living room and then the kitchen. “I still love garlic knots.”

“That’s why I get you the biggest bottle of Benadryl,” he said. She could digest food now--SHIELD’s R&D department, driven to invention by a stubborn and determined Jane Foster hassling them, had invented a medication that suppressed vampiric virus levels in her body---but garlic still gave her hives and rashes. And she needed strong sunscreen.

“You’re a very good husband,” she said. “The best husband.”

“I know,” he said, watching as she took a Benadryl before she opened the takeout containers. She sighed happily and sniffed as she opened the boxes.

“Ohhhh, this is sooo good, thank you for getting me takeout,” she said.

“You’re welcome, baby,” he told her. “I got you the chocolate raspberry tiramisu,” he added. “It was the special.”

“God, you’re perfect. C’mere and hold me while I eat this bread,” she said, gesturing to him. She had a garlic knot in the other hand. Brock laughed, but cupped her hips anyway.

“If you’re gonna faint again”--dizziness when she had been eating human food had been an early issue--”we can sit at the table?” he offered.

“No, I just like eating garlic knots while you hold me,” she said, shaking her head and chewing. 

“Yeah?” he said, dropping a kiss on her shoulder. He paused. “You’re already blotchy,” he said, sighing. There were red splotches on her neck. “You realize that this is equivalent of a minor poisoning?” Brock said. “You’re attacking your own immune system.”

“But is there extra marinara?” Darcy asked. 

“Very funny,” he said dryly, smiling. “It’s in the bag.”

“Goody, goody,” she said, reaching into the bag curiously. “I promise not to keep you up scratching,” she said. “I’ll take another Benadryl. Or see if I have Zyrtec.” He kissed the top of her head. “I can always sleep in my box afterwards,” she said. She grinned. “I can still nail you like a screen door in a hurricane beforehand---what is it?” she said.

“I don’t like when you sleep in the box when I’m home,” he muttered. “I like having you close.”

“Awwwwww,” Darcy said. “You really do love me.” She sounded pleased. “Even though I left those hickeys on your neck?”

“The team thought they were very impressive,” he said dryly. “Rollins said he’d never seen one so purple.”

“That’s sweet,” Darcy said. She licked her lips. They were a little swollen. 

“Your mouth is burning, isn’t it?” Brock said. She nodded, laughing. He kissed her temple. “I heard a funny joke today,” he said.

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration--this tumblr post: https://otherwindow.tumblr.com/post/643616479443664896/firefliesandacorns-otherwindow-unboxing-videos


End file.
